BOOK 2

  CHAPTER 6

  Patrick

  Six feet deep.

  The Beastmasters had insisted. Patrick deserved a real burial, not a shallow pit covered with rocks. So they dug. For nearly an hour, through hard volcanic stone. No one complained.

  Patrick lay at the edge, wrapped in ceremonial cloth. White linen, clean and bright against the dirt. Someone had found purple wildflowers from the mountain slopes. They were scattered across his chest.

  The whole camp had gathered. Every Beastmaster who could stand. Every werewolf. Every child. They formed a large half circle around the grave, silent and waiting.

  Jack stood with his people, bandaged but upright. His face was grim. He hadn’t spoken since waking up. Bash understood. Some grief was too heavy for words.

  Earlier, they had laid to rest five more. Bash was an onlooker then, but now…now he was the one to give the speech.

  Nora and Luis stood together, shoulder to shoulder, leaning on each other. They looked hollowed out. Exhausted in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix.

  Shai’s avatar, in her Victorian armor, stood with Lilly at the edge of the crowd. Their matching black made them look like grim reapers, ready to carry Patrick’s soul to the afterlife.

  But Patrick isn’t gone, Bash thought. Not if I have anything to say about it. Bash knew the truth, knew that Patrick was backed up in a secret drive, built by a Shard developer who had rebelled against the system. Tens of thousands were trapped there. Waiting. And now Patrick was with them.

  The resolve gave Bash just enough courage to step forward and begin. “Patrick was my best friend.” His voice cracked. “He was a man of few words. Except for when they counted.” He paused, almost breaking down.

  The crowd was silent. Watching. Waiting.

  Come on, Bash. Hold it together, you just started. He took a breath and found a memory that made him smile.

  “The first time I met Patrick, I didn’t even know his name. I was half naked and covered in blood.” A small laugh slipped out. “He was the one who vouched for me. I was a screaming lunatic with no pants, and Patrick looked at me and thought, ‘Yeah, I’ll back this guy.’”

  A few of the Beastmasters smiled. They could picture it.

  “And when we finally beat the raiders, and I passed out, Patrick was the one who caught me. Strong arms. Firm grip. He just said, ‘Thank you.’ Like I’d done him a favor, when he was the one… holding me.”

  Bash swallowed. “Later, we shared a drink at a tavern. Didn’t say much. Just two guys who’d been through hell, sitting at a bar.” He shook his head. “That was Patrick. He didn’t need words. The silence was enough.”

  Bash looked at Luis. “When we found Luis, Patrick didn’t hesitate. We were on a road, bandits everywhere. Patrick had his spear ready to kill. I stopped him. Told him Luis was an Upload, not a script. And Patrick...” Bash’s voice caught. “Patrick just adjusted. No questions. No argument. He even offered Luis a hand to stand back up.”

  Luis wiped his eyes but kept listening.

  “That was who he was.” Bash laughed softly. “He once handed me a codpiece without a word. Just looked at me, grunted, and held it out. ‘Always gotta protect the goods,’ I said. He didn’t even crack a smile. Just turned and walked away.”

  The crowd chuckled. A few tears fell with it.

  Bash’s jaw tightened. “Just like so many of you, he didn’t choose this life. But he made something of it anyway. He protected people. He trained fighters. He stood in front of danger, every single day.”

  He looked out at the crowd.

  “He was the vanguard of the vanguard. Our spear point. The man who went first so the rest of us could follow.”

  Nora was weeping openly now, her face buried in Luis’s chest. Bash didn’t stare. He allowed her to be vulnerable without judgment.

  Just like Patrick had done for him. Countless times.

  Bash’s voice grew stronger. “He saw my potential when I couldn’t see it myself. He inspired me and everyone around him to be better.”

  He let the words hang in the air.

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  “So we must be… we must be better. Because we no longer have him to hold us up.”

  The crowd was still. No one moved. No one spoke.

  Bash walked forward and knelt down next to the body. With careful hands, he pulled back the sheet to look at Patrick’s face.

  Two coins had been placed over his eyes. An old tradition. Payment for the ferryman.

  Bash leaned close enough that only Patrick could hear. If Patrick could still hear. “I will save you,” he whispered. “Like you saved me.” He kissed Patrick’s forehead.

  He stood, pulling the sheet back over Patrick’s face and stepped away.

  The Beastmasters began to lower the body into the grave. Bash watched until the last shovel of dirt was placed. Until the mound was patted smooth. Until the flowers were arranged on top. Until everyone had left, and he stood alone.

  ***

  Bash entered the finished Village Hall sometime later and stood near the center, looking up at the tall ceilings.

  Nearby, Jack sat at a table covered with maps, making notes. The man had just been stabbed, but was already back to work. Stubborn bastard.

  In a quiet moment, Bash walked over and sagged into a chair next to him. “What the hell am I doing, Jack?” His voice came out hollow. “I'm not cut out for any of this.”

  Jack looked up, pausing his work. “I'll tell you a secret. None of us ever really are.”

  Bash sighed. “Thanks. Huge fan.”

  “I know this is hard.” Jack's voice was quieter now. “With everything happening… and just happened.” He paused, eyes distant for a moment. “One day, when you're off adventuring again, you'll be able to close this chapter. It will take time. It always does. But things will get better.”

  Bash looked up at him with a hopeful smile. “So I won't be stuck here forever then.”

  Jack gave a tight smile. “No, Bash. Once this immediate crisis is over, you are better used elsewere. You can transfer the contracts to me, or keep just enough to hold your title. Whatever you think is best. But you won't be able to beat Maximus from this little village. You'll need to gather more allies, build an entire empire.”

  Bash scoffed. “Wow. Way to spell it out for me. Haven't you ever heard of show don't tell?”

  Jack gave a hardy chuckle that turned into a cough and a groan. Catching his breath, he looked back up. “Bash, you remind me of Lilly sometimes.” He looked over at a perch by the window, where the raven had been sitting quietly. “Innocence. Can't be beat.”

  Lilly squawked. “I'm not innocent!”

  Bash blinked and turned toward the window. “Oh, Lilly. Sorry, I didn't see you there.”

  “Because no one ever looks up.” She ruffled her feathers indignantly.

  The same line she'd said when they first met. The memory brought back a flood of emotions. Both happy and painful.

  Lilly flew over and landed on his shoulder, talons gripping tight. Her voice was smaller now. “I'm going to miss Patrick. He always gave me treats.” She pressed closer against his neck. “You won't leave me, will you Bash?”

  Bash didn't know how to handle this. So, he deflected. “Patrick gave you treats, huh? Figures. That's why you've grown twice the size since we met.”

  Lilly puffed her feathers. “I told you that I evolved!”

  Shai materialized beside them and reached out to stroke Lilly's head, holding her projection together just long enough to make contact before it phased through.

  Lilly preened under the attention.

  “Don't mind him, Lilly,” Shai said softly. “He's a bully. You are perfect the way you are.”

  Lilly gave a beautiful little cooing sound as she settled down resting her head against Bash’s neck.

  “Wow, Shai.” Bash watched her go. “When did you figure out kids?”

  Shai looked at him with one eye cocked. “I figured you out didn’t I. And just as Jack said, you're only half a step away from being a child yourself.”

  Bash groaned. “Are you still mad at me?”

  Shai remained silent.

  “Oh, for the love of all that is holy in this Shard!”

  Luis and Nora walked in some time later. They were... glowing. There was no other word for it. Something in the way they moved together. The way their shoulders almost touched. The way they kept glancing at each other when they thought no one was looking.

  What the hell? Were they together now? Bash felt equal parts jealous and happy. Mostly happy. They deserved something good after all this.

  When they saw him looking at them with a crooked smile, they both straightened and took a step apart from each other. Luis stammered. “Oh, Bash. Hey. We were coming to find you.”

  Nora stepped in smoothly. “Bash. Your speech for Patrick, it was… good.”

  Bash gave a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Nora. And thank you for trying to save him.”

  Nora's head hung. “There honestly was nothing to be done.” Her voice was quiet. “He was... he was gone before you got him to me.”

  They stayed in silence then. Remembering.

  Lilly tensed on Bash's shoulder. He could feel her small body trembling.

  "Hey, Lilly," Bash whispered. "You know who always has treats? Luis. Check his front left pocket."

  Lilly's head snapped up. She looked over at Luis, eyes narrowing. Then she launched off Bash's shoulder in a flurry of black feathers.

  "What?! Hey! What do you want?!" Luis danced backward, arms flailing as Lilly pecked at his coat. "I don't have anything!"

  Nora stepped up beside Bash, opposite Shai, and rested her hand on his shoulder. Together the three watched Lilly rob Luis until she emerged triumphant with a few treats clutched in her beak. She flapped up and out the window without a backward glance.

  Luis stood there, patting his empty pocket, muttering curses in Spanish. Finally, he turned back to Bash. "So... uh, what can I do to help?"

  Standing, Bash walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're our Champion, Luis. What you can do is start training. You have one, maybe two days to become our new spear tip."

  Luis gulped. Nora joined them, her face grim. "I will be right there next to you."

  Bash wanted to object. They shouldn't put their healer on the front lines. It was tactically stupid. It was dangerous.

  She gave him a glare then. Daring him to say what he was thinking.

  When Bash didn't speak, she just nodded. “Alright, the day has been long, and you two,” she looked pointedly at Bash, then over her shoulder at Jack, “need some sleep.”

  ***

  Luckily, Bash didn’t have to go far. There was a small room off the main hall, designated just for him. It had a bed and a window facing the mountains. Simple and quiet.

  Undressing, he laid down and let himself drift. This was nearly perfect, he thought, the only thing missing was some silk pajamas and an espresso machine.

  Rolling to his side, he gazed out the window at the night sky. His eyelids grew heavy and began to close. Sure, his body would sleep, but his mind never would, he knew.

  Consciousness separated from the game as it always did, but the expected drop into the void never came.

  Bash's eyes snapped back open. He wasn't floating in the familiar nothingness. No. He was in outer fucking space.

  Rising Star! Thank you everyone for reading and getting us this far.

  R.I.P. Patrick. See you around cowboy.